


The Tattoo

by L8Bleumr



Series: Untamed Tales [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-13
Updated: 2011-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L8Bleumr/pseuds/L8Bleumr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wedding looms near and Rhavaniel will marry Legolas in only a few short days. She is nervous and the anxiety of the big day is making her unbearable to be around. Only her best friend Antien knows how to calm the beautiful beast, and they decide it’s time to blow off a little steam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Tattoo, Chapter 1

 

Rhavaniel and Antien sat quietly in the library. It was not as grand as the one back in their home of Mirkwood, nor was it as abundantly rich as Lord Elrond’s in Imladris. Still, it was very beautiful and held many books of all kinds. Since Ithilien had been built, many people from all over Middle-earth had settled here and made it their permanent residence. Not only elves lived here, but humans and even some dwarves. So there too were books from their races in the library.

Antien was looking over a particular book about dwarf wedding rituals. He had not seen many dwarves outside of the ones who were captured so many years ago in Mirkwood. Now they walked freely through Ithilien and he felt he wanted to get to know them better, and know about their culture. He had recently insisted that Rhavaniel do the same thing. She resisted as long as was possible, but once Antien got something stuck in his brain, there was no arguing with him.

Rhavaniel nervously thumbed through a book about dwarfish weapons. Being that Rhavaniel was a seasoned warrior, she obviously picked this book, but she was hardly paying any attention to it. Her mind was far from here now. You see, in two days she would marry Prince Legolas, Lord of North Ithilien. Some might ask why she would be so nervous to marry the most handsome elf in all of Arda. She had known him since the day she was born, even shared the same begetting day, though separated by several years. They knew everything about each other, had fought, argued, despised each other, and eventually fell in love. They had bound to each other recently, without proper ceremony first, so in a sense they were already married. However, now they must claim their love for each other in front of most of Middle-earth. Rhavaniel would claim her rightful title as Princess and Lady of North Ithilien. This was something she had avoided for many countless years. It was not that she did not love Legolas enough, but that she hated titles and the responsibilities they brought. She worried about others looking at her differently, treating her better than she thought she deserved. There was no royal blood in her family, though they had been in good standing and even held employment in King Thranduil’s court in Mirkwood. Rhavaniel herself had been a royal bodyguard to Queen Arwen for a short ten years. This she was comfortable with, to stand to the side while others had their life spread out for all to see. However, it was her life that was about to be opened in front of all, and this was what made her so uptight now.

Antien peeked over the top of his book and observed Rhavaniel. She naturally wore her tan legging and leather boots, green tunic with gold embroidery and a silky white shirt underneath. The tunic laced up the front, stopping just under her bosom, which made her look quite busty. Her white shirt was unbuttoned so that her ample cleavage was very prominent. Her legs were crossed and the top leg bounced nervously. She held the book in her lap with one hand while chewing on the thumbnail of her free hand. Her long golden wavy hair covered her shoulders, as she no longer wore her warrior braids. She was flipping the pages faster than Antien knew it took her to read a paragraph. Rhavaniel was only going through the motions and he knew she was thinking about the ceremony.

“Have you found out anything interesting about dwarfish weapons?” Antien asked from the couch across from where Rhavaniel sat. She did not answer, but continued to flip page after page, staring a hole through the book. When he could not gain her attention, Antien left the couch where he sat and went to her. He grabbed the book and yanked it from her hands.

“Hey! I was reading that,” she said rather perturbed.

“Alright, then tell me about the different styles of dwarf axes and what they are used for,” Antien insisted.

Rhavaniel glared at him, but remained silent. Antien did the same while waiting for an answer. Then she sighed loudly while rolling her eyes. “Why must I contend with your latest project? I am not interested in learning about dwarf culture right now, Antien. If I want to know something, I’ll ask Gimli, though I’m sure I’ll get the long answer.”

“Well, someone is in a mood today,” Antien said under his breath.

“I am two days away from claiming my new title,” she said with a slightly raised voice. “I think I am entitled to any mood I choose. You do not know the pressure I am under. When you bound to Glandur, you did not have all of Middle-earth come to see you swear an oath to an entire kingdom.”

Antien plopped down in the chair she was sitting in. He wiggled his hips forcing her to scoot over as he squeezed in beside her. He put a hand on her bobbing knee, which was still crossed over the other. His touch was very soothing as he gave her a little squeeze. He didn’t say a word but only looked at her with his hazel eyes, batting his eyelashes at her. Rhavaniel could not resist him when he looked like this, a poor lonely homeless puppy.

“Antien, you know--,” she started but was interrupted.

“Sweetling, everything will be alright. Legolas loves you. He always has. Nothing is going to change,” he said with his adorable smile, instantly calming Rhavaniel. “Well, some things will change,” he said, suddenly looking a little concerned. “I mean, you will have maids and other palace workers waiting on you. And then there are dignitaries that will visit that you will have to entertain, especially when Legolas is away or something. Oh, and let’s not forget--.”

“You’re not helping, Antien,” she said dryly as she pushed his hand from her knee.

“Look, do you think it was that easy to bond to Glandur? I may not have claimed a throne, but there were many things to consider. I remember thinking how simple it would be to confess our love and bind in the eyes of the Valar. Glandur was the one who made me realize some of the things I would be giving up.” Antien paused, staring into the distance before his eyes dropped to the floor as he remembered their ‘talk’. “I thought he was trying to get rid of me at first, you know . . . change my mind, but he was only looking out for my well-being.” He brought his attention back to Rhavaniel. “Legolas adores you. You know that. And the people of Imladris love you too. You are their warrior Princess, the first and maybe the last. No other elleth can claim the same. You have nothing to fear. There is no doubt that your life is about to get a little hectic, but you have Legolas . . . and you have me.”

Rhavaniel smiled and laid her head on Antien’s shoulder. “I am so lucky to have you. Thank you for this, but next time just come out and say what you need to say and spare me a day of reading about dwarves.”

“What?” Antien said pretending to be shocked. “I was only trying to . . .”

The look Rhavaniel shot him said she didn’t believe a word. “Alright, I’ll admit it was supposed to be a diversion. I know how well you have gotten to know Gimli over the past few years. I thought it would distract you from all of this.”

“A herd of wild stallions could not distract me from this upcoming day,” she teased.

“No, of course not, not my Rhav. But there is one thing that might alleviate your worried mind if only for one evening,” Antien said with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow.

A devilish grin spread across Rhavaniel’s face. “Aye my friend, a visit to The Hollowed Leg. It’s been quite some time since we frequented that haunt.”

“I think this is just the right occasion for such a visit,” Antien said then looked down at her open blouse. “Don’t you think you ought to change first?”

Rhavaniel looked down at her cleavage. “What is wrong with the way I am dressed?” she said offended.

“You are about to become the Lady of North Ithilien,” Antien countered making his point.

“Two days, Antien, and not a minute sooner. This may very well be my last time out of the palace for quite some time and the ladies want one last look around,” she said as her hands came up to cup her breasts.

Antien burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh for Eru’s sake, Rhav. Well, tuck the ‘girls’ in and let’s be on our way then.”

* * *

It was a busy night at the tavern, busier than usual. Rhavaniel and Antien entered the bar and had a look around. Music filled the place. Two fiddlers were battling it out with their instruments in a lively tune. A good number of people stood at the base of the stage, encouraging them to play each round faster than the one before.

Along the right wall was a crowd of men playing a game of Ringing the Bull. The stuffed head of a bull with a metal hook sticking out of its nose hung on the wall. Hanging from the ceiling a few feet from the bull’s head, was a string with a golden ring tied to it. The object of the game was to toss the ring onto either the bulls horns or its nose. The men took turns throwing the ring. Each one had a mug of beer in their hands, laughing and teasing each other.

In the very back of the tavern was a group of dwarves playing a game of Puff and Dart. Each dwarf held a hollow tube in which a dart was inserted. On the wall was a round board that looked very much like a practice target, only smaller. They watched as a rather young dwarf stuffed a dart into his tube, lifted it to his mouth, and aimed at the board. Then he took a deep breath and blew the dart out of the tube. It came very close to hitting the center circle.

There was one other game, this one on the left side of the bar, Frog in Hole. A group of young elves was playing. Essentially, it was a table that looked like a box, with a hole cut out in the middle. There was a circle drawn around the hole. Each player held four small black wooden disks and took turns tossing them. Scoring was easy. If the disk landed inside the drawn circle, it was worth one point. If it landed in the circle and any part of the disk hung over the hole, it was worth two points. If the disk went through the hole, it was worth three points. The elves took turns tossing their disks. After each round, the one with the least amount of points was out of the game. If there was a tie for last place, they had a ‘toss off’ in which the winner went on to the next round with the others.

“Oh Antien, it has been years since I played this game. Let’s see if we can join,” she cooed to her best friend.

“This game is too easy Rhav. I say we introduce ourselves to those men over there,” he said pointing to the right. “Remember, it will be good for you to intermingle with different races, especially after you marry Legolas and become --.”

“Don’t say it Antien. You do not have to constantly remind me of my new position in Ithilien. Now let’s just have some fun tonight, shall we?”

“Good,” Antien said smiling. “Then Ringing the Bull it is!”

Rhavaniel rolled her eyes and followed Antien, who was already a few strides away from her. They walked up to where the group of men stood, waiting their turn to throw the ring.

“Good evening friends,” Antien said cheerfully. “Care to let us join your game?”

The men turned to look at Antien, but did not answer right away. These were off duty Gondorian guards come to Ithilien for their reprieve. They were what Antien once heard Faramir refer to as ‘men’s men’. They were rough and tough, completely opposite of Antien, who was quite beautiful for a male elf. The men seemed a little uncomfortable in his presence. Antien didn’t seem to mind and just gave them a friendly smile.

“Well?” he said waiting for an answer.

The men mumbled and grumbled, looking at one another. Then Rhavaniel finally walked up next to Antien. There she stood in her tan leggings and tunic cinched tightly around her midsection. The tops of her breasts were still pushed up and exposed from earlier. Of course, the men’s eyes all went to that very spot and one by one, smiles spread across their weathered faces.

“What’s it gonna be boys? Anyone up for a game with a couple elves?” she boasted. Rhavaniel was never timid in front of anyone, no matter who they were.

Immediately, the men all agreed at once to let them join their game. Some stepped aside to let Rhavaniel in first. Others were almost drooling, as their sight remained trained on her cleavage. She gave them each a saucy smile and the men were like putty. Antien rolled his eyes. The night was still young and there was no telling what would happen.

Rhavaniel stepped up and grabbed the ring swinging from the string. She held it in her fingers and closed one eye, lining up her shot. One of the Gondorians, a very young one, stepped up beside her.

“Would the lady like me to show her how to properly hold and aim the ring?” he said rather boldly.

Some of the other men laughed under their breath, but the oldest one, a man who looked to be in his forties, patted the young man on the shoulder as he spoke to Rhavaniel. “You must excuse my young friend here.” Then he addressed the younger. “Perhaps you are not aware of whom you speak to. This is the Lady Rhavaniel of the woodland realm of Mirkwood. She has fought at Helm’s Deep as well as the Black Gate along with our reigning King Elessar. She has killed more Orcs than you have flies in your short lifetime. I do not think she needs your advice on how to toss a ring onto a hook.”

At this, the young man’s eyes widened. “Beg your pardon, my lady. I did not mean to --.”

“Tis quite alright. Actually, it is nice to know there are still some who do not recognize me,” she said as she turned to Antien. “Those days will end before too long.”

They played their game, the loser having to buy the next round of drinks. The men ordered ale, but Antien and Rhavaniel had a glass of wine each. It was a rather enjoyable time, playing with these men of Gondor, but soon the elves tired of the game. They excused themselves and moved on to mingle with other people in the bar.

Next, they walked over to where the dwarves played their dart game. They stood by and watched the dwarves’ strategy before asking to join. Rhavaniel spoke, inviting them to a challenge. Two of the older dwarves wrinkled their noses at playing with an elf, and a female at that, but it was the two younger dwarves that talked the others into letting Rhavaniel and Antien play.

Rhavaniel noticed how each of the dwarves wore cloaks of a different color. None of them seemed too much into introductions, so she identified them by color. Red and Blue were the two older dwarves, obviously still not thrilled at having to intermingle with elves. Green and Purple were the younger dwarves that seemed ready to accept her challenge whether they were elves or not. Gold and Burgundy were the quiet ones that just went along with the decisions of the majority.

Red spoke up after Rhavaniel and Antien were invited to play. “They haven’t any tubes. You must have your own tube to shoot with. There’s no sharing in this game,” he said grumpily.

Rhavaniel saw his point. No one wanted to blow a dart through someone else’s tube. Then Green dwarf smiled and spoke up. “I have an extra one in my bag. It is clean and has not been used if the elf lady would care to use it.”

“Why thank you. I believe I will take it,” Rhavaniel said as she watched Green dig through his bag. He pulled out the extra dart tube and a dart to go with it. Then he looked over at Antien who seemed to be watching closely.

“I’m afraid I don’t have one for you, but perhaps someone else does,” Green said looking at his companions hopefully. Red and Blue ignored him, of course. Gold and Burgundy started to search their bags until Blue shot them a look of scorn and they stopped what they were doing. Purple only shrugged his shoulders, knowing full well he had no extra darts.

“That’s quite alright,” Rhavaniel said as she bumped shoulders with Antien. “We don’t mind sharing.”

All the dwarves mumbled and glanced at one another in disgust of the idea. Rhavaniel laughed. “He is my brother,” she said trying to justify why they would share the same blow dart. They were not really related, but close enough to be considered so. Red and Blue still mumbled behind their beards. The rest thought nothing of it.

They were about to started their game, the dwarves going by age (oldest to youngest), and the elves going last, when Red paused. “Well, what are we playing for?”

“Why drinks of course,” said Purple, sounding as if he was grinning behind that big bushy beard. “Dwarfish ale to be certain.” He winked at the elves.

Antien looked at Rhavaniel, not sure if this was a good idea or not, but he knew she would not pass up a challenge. “Loser buys a round?” she asked.

Red crinkled his eyes at her. “Loser pays for *her* own . . . and drinks from this,” he said putting emphasis on the word. He picked up an extra tall pewter mug and brought it down heavily on the table. Antien’s eyes widened. Rhavaniel kept her coolness about her. She could tell the lead dwarf expected her to back out of the challenge. Antien could only pray that she would, but knew better of her.

“Accepted,” she said with a cheeky grin. Antien sighed and rolled his eyes once more.

With the wager set and the challenge accepted, the dwarves went about preparing for the game. Antien elbowed his best friend, a worried look on his face. “Don’t you think you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew?” he whispered anxiously. “Even you, oh mighty warrior Princess --.”

“Do not call me Princess in front of the dwarves,” she said sternly and gave him a look that could have downed a troll. “Now buck up and let’s get on with this.” Rhavaniel flashed him a wicked grin. “We have some dwarves to best.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Tattoo, Chapter 2

 

“Never in all my long years have I seen an elf, let alone a female elf drink so much so quickly,” said Green, the youngest dwarf.

“And she outlasted her brother,” said Purple quite amazed. They were both standing there looking down at the two elves that had lost the challenge and the rematch of Puff and Dart. Now it seemed they had lost their dignity too.

Antien sat on one side of the small round table, slouched forward, arms crossed and head resting upon them. Rhavaniel sat across from him, leaning back in her chair, one leg on top of the table, the other foot firmly planted on the floor. Her head was thrown back and her mouth was agape. Both elves were seemingly fast asleep, passed out cold.

The dwarves left them to go and boast about their victory to some of the other patrons. A group of young boys, dishwashers for the tavern, overheard what had happened and went to see this unusual circumstance, drunken elves. They looked at Antien, buried face down on his arms, and laughed. Then their eyes grew wide as they gazed at Rhavaniel. The position, in which she was displayed, left not much to a young man’s imagination, or old for that matter. The boys had a clear view down her cleavage, the tops of her rounded breasts lifting and lowering slowly as she slept. One of the boys, feeling quite brave as curiosity took over, started to reach out with his hand to cop a feel while she was in this vulnerable state. Just as he was about to touch his first breast, a man’s hand slapped him away.

“That will be enough from you, young man. Don’t you have tables to clean?” said a strong voice. Without answering, the boys took off running to a door that led to the backroom of the tavern.

A very tall and handsome Gondorian guard stood there looking at the two elves. He shook his head, his shoulder length brown hair swishing back and forth as he did. “And they say men can’t hold their liquor,” he said to himself. He reached out to Antien and shook his shoulder until he stirred.

“One more blow, then we must be going,” he mumbled as he sat up and looked around.

The Gondorian man wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the handsome elf meant by this. Such a statement could be taken several ways. He chose to ignore it. “Tis getting late, Master elf,” the man said. He saw a flash of gold and noticed he wore a wedding band on his finger. “It is time you and your lovely wife had best be on your way.”

Antien blinked several times, trying to focus on the face in front of him. He smiled, his eyes half opened and said. “Why thank you, my good man, but this is not my wife.” Antien hiccupped and laughed. “My wife is at home.” He broke into a fit of laughter thinking of calling Glandur his wife. The man looked at him, shocked by his statement. Antien shook his head. “Silly humans do not understand the ways of love.” He got up on wobbly legs, almost falling back down, but the man grabbed his arm to help steady him. Antien continued. “You see, my husband is my wife . . . my she is a he . . . my wife is a . . . oh, never mind.” It was obvious the man did not understand. Antien looked at Rhavaniel. “This is my sister,” he slurred. It was easier to just tell him this rather than try to explain anymore.

Antien stepped over to Rhavaniel and shook her arm. “Rhav, Rhav darling, it’s time to go now.”

Rhavaniel mumbled something about blow darts and wedding dresses then lifted her head until her chin rested on her chest. “Damn dwarves,” she said as the room was spinning. “I think that Red bastard cheated.”

“Rhav, my Princess, we have to go home now,” Antien said then he gasped and looked shocked. He brought his finger to his lips and made a shushing sound. “Shh, we are not supposed to call her that in front of the dwarves,” he whispered to the Gondorian guard who was still watching these two and trying with all his might not to laugh.

“It will be our little secret,” the man answered, playing along with Antien.

With the man’s help and what little help Antien was in his state, they got Rhavaniel to her feet. They made their way to the tavern door and walked outside. All three stood there a moment before the man spoke. “Would you like for me to help your sister get home safely?” he asked. He was being quite sincere and only wanted to help.

Antien jumped between them, a hand on his hip and the other poking the very tall, very muscled Gondorian in his chest with his long elvish finger. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are up to,” Antien said accusingly. “This is the Lady Rhavaniel of Mirkwood, soon to be Princess, soon to be Lady of North Ithilien.” He glanced at Rhavaniel. “Pull you shirt up dear. You’re about to set the girls loose.”

Rhavaniel looked down and laughed. “Oops,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “Sometimes they have a mind of their own.” She pulled at the neckline of her shirt and then cupped her breasts with her hands making a quick adjustment.

The man put his hands in the air, trying to look as submissive as possible. Truth be told, he knew who she was and he was worried that she would not make it home safely. However, Antien was being overly protective and there was no arguing with an elf, least an elf under the influence of dwarfish ale. “I meant no harm to you or our *soon to be* Princess. Do be careful getting her home though, my friend,” the man said to Antien.

Antien stood up straight and looked the man in the eyes, all six of them. “I’ll have you know that the Lady Rhavaniel has fought spiders in Mirkwood, Orcs in Lorien, and trolls in . . . in . . . well, where ever it was that she fought trolls. She has been to the Black Gate and back. I think she will make it home.”

The man chuckled to himself. These two really were quite entertaining, even in their inebriated state. “Well then, I will leave you to it. It seems you are in good hands under her protection. Good evening Master elf, Lady Rhavaniel,” he said and bowed to them both. Then he went off for home. The Gondorian man couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not insisting that he follow them home, just to make sure they did not get into any trouble

Antien and Rhavaniel did their best to walk down the empty street. It was quite late and most people were home already. The two friends held each other up the best they could. Rhavaniel was still complaining that the dwarves had cheated somehow while Antien was commenting on the pretty shop windows as they passed by.

Suddenly Rhavaniel stopped, jumping in front of Antien. She grabbed his shoulders and waited for him to look her square the eyes. Antien smiled a silly grin. “What?” he said.

“Antien, you know you are my best friend in all of Arda, right?” she said with a slurred accent.

“Yes,” he responded.

“And you know I love you, right?”

“Yes.”

“And things are about to change quite drastically.”

“Uh huh.”

Rhavaniel lowered her head to his until they were touching foreheads. “Tell me the truth, Antien. Do you think less of me for going back on my word?”

The two friends stood on the sidewalk, swaying with each other and holding each other up. Antien stood up straight and crinkled his brow. “What are you talking about? What word did you go back on?”

“Oh, don’t you remember when we were just starting out as trainees? We swore that we would never be caught up in the politics of royalty and court life and such. We would be warriors and nothing else.”

Antien smiled. “I remember. That was the day you swore off dresses.”

Rhavaniel rolled her eyes. “Antien, you are not listening to me. That was the day we swore to always be friends. We said that as long as we had each other, nothing else would matter. And now I am about to go against everything I have ever fought not to become. I am going to be a Princess, a Lady of my own city. For Eru’s sake Antien, I am going to have a throne. But I just want you to know that even though all of this is about to happen to me, I will never forget you. You will always be my closest friend and I am sorry if I ever disappointed you.” As she spoke the last word, a tear filled in the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek.

Antien cupped her face in his hands, his thumb carefully wiping away the tear. “Rhavaniel, you are now and will always be my best friend. You are practically family. No matter what happens that one thing will never change. Glandur may have my soul and my eternity, but you have my heart. I love you Rhav.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose and finally her lips. Then he connected with her blue eyes once more. “Better?”

“I guess so,” she said wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Antien pulled her in for a hug. “Good,” he whispered in her ear. At the same time, his attention suddenly switched from this private and emotional moment to pretty flashy things dangling in the window of the store behind them. He released Rhavaniel from his hold. “Huh, I don’t remember ever seeing that place before.”

Rhavaniel turned around to see what he was talking about. There were many sketched pictures on yellowed parchments hanging in the window. Silver and gold baubles of different shapes hung from the top, twisting and twirling to get ones attention. “What do you suppose they sell in there?”

Antien scrunched his shoulders. “It looks like an art shop to me.” He gasped and grabbed Rhavaniel’s hands as an idea came to him. “Let’s do something to commemorate this moment. We’ll have an artist draw something for each of us, something that will remind us of each other every time we see it.”

“I love that idea,” Rhavaniel squealed, and off they walked, stumbling and giggling as they entered the store, still quite plastered from the dwarfish ale.


	3. Chapter 3

The Tattoo, Chapter 3

“Make them stop,” Antien moaned, for the screeching was insufferable. “And close the curtains, please. It is far too early for it to be this light.” His head was pounding and his mouth dry. He was not sure if his beloved was still with him and felt blindly until his hand rested on a thigh that was not his own, then he felt for the edge of a sheet and pulled it over his head. He rolled into a ball hoping to shut out the brash sounds and bright sun.  
Glandur was feeling a bit wicked and reached for the sheet, gathering it slowly until Antien stirred and groped for it. “Whom should I make stop, and what? ‘Tis a beautiful morning. The birds welcome the day, and I’m only reading while you snore.”

“I don’t snore.”  
“You do.”  
“I would not do anything as vulgar as snore.” Antien snatched the sheet up and rolled over in it.  
“You snore,” Glandur insisted, while inching the bedclothes off his partner again.  
“Why do you hate me? Have some pity,” Antien wailed as the light bathed his face. He put a pillow over his head and held it there.  
“I’m sorry meleth. You truly are suffering. I can fix you some porridge and eggs.” Glandur almost wished he had not made the repelling remark when Antien began to wretch dryly. He had never seen his bond mate this miserable after a night of rounding taverns with Rhavaniel.  
Glandur went to the washstand and returned with a damp cloth for Antien’s brow. “I am sorry love; I didn’t realize you were this sick. What in Arda did you drink?” It must have been potent or abundant, or both for usually Antien won at drinking games, his beatific appearance deceiving his challengers.  
“I cannot be sure. Rhavaniel insisted we play a game of darts with the dwarves. Their ghastly dwarfish ale does not taste so bad after a number of them. I don’t remember anything after one of them dared a contest,” Antien groaned and drew the cold cloth over his face. “Oh gods! What hurts worse, my ass or my head?”  
“What do you mean your ass hurts?” Glandur asked suspiciously. It was quite common that while in the company of others, many pairs of eyes were trained on the chestnut haired elf and this had not escaped Glandur’s notice. He wondered how friendly a dwarf might dare to behave toward a pretty, drunken young elf.  
“I mean my left cheek feels like someone bit me. What did you do?”  
“I did nothing at all,” Glandur said indignantly while he peered under the sheet. Relieved at his finding Glandur said, “Oh, it seems you and Rhavaniel have reached a new level of friendship. You have a new tattoo. Rhavaniel’s name is written on your bottom.” He lowered the sheet and picked up his book. “You have often called her a pain in the ass. This one will stop stinging in a few days. The real Rhav is a constant source of irritation.”  
“I am allowed to call her a pain in the ass. You are not,” Antien said trying to look at his own rear. “Are you sure it is a tattoo . . . and it says Rhav?”  
Glandur looked again. “I was mistaken. In small letters above it says ‘I love’ then ‘R-H-A-V-A-N-I-E-L’ in larger script.”  
Antien sat up rubbing his eyes. “I am a fool.”  
“I wouldn’t say that. You were drunk. Many have done the same thing after a few too many drinks.” Climbing out of the sheets, Glandur closed the curtains and looked back at Antien while dressing. His hair was a tangled mass of auburn straw and some substance was dried in parts of it. He had dark circles under his eyes, and needed a bath. “I will say if you feel half as bad as you look you must feel very rough.”  
“Thank you,” Antien said stretching. “I’m a fool, not for the tattoo, but for getting myself and Rhav so drunk. The ceremony is tomorrow and there are a thousand things to see to. I can’t afford to stay in bed and nurse my ills, and I’ll get no help from Rhavaniel. Do you know where she is?”  
“Yes, she is home in bed by now. Legolas came to collect her a while ago. Stay in bed yourself for a while yet. I’ll wake you when I have a bath drawn and a remedy for your headache.” Glandur quietly closed the door behind him as Antien settled into the bed covering his head with the pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

The Tattoo, Chapter 4

 

“Oh my head!” Rhavaniel moaned as she awoke the next morning. “Tell Gimli to stop hammering.”

Legolas lay on his side facing Rhavaniel, watching her sleep. “Gimli is not here, meleth. That hammering is going on inside your skull.”

“What happened? I feel as if I’ve been trampled on by a thousand Orcs,” she said holding her hand over her eyes. “As a matter of fact, I have been trampled on by a thousand Orcs, and it never felt this bad.”

Legolas laughed. “You went out cavorting with Antien, that’s what happened.” He rolled onto his back, reached for a mug on the side table and turned back to Rhavaniel. “Here drink this. I had it brought to our room knowing you would need something this morning.” He handed her the steaming mug of herbal tea.

Rhavaniel took the mug from him, his fingers lingering over hers as she did. As bad as her head hurt, it didn’t compare to the tingle that she felt where their skin touched or the sultry look he was giving her now. His eyes left hers as they traveled down the length of her body still covered by a light silky sheet. There was a hunger in his gaze that Rhavaniel knew all too well. Still, she was quite hung over and needed more tea before she could even think of indulging in one of Legolas’ morning love sessions, no matter how irresistible he looked.

“I don’t remember getting home last night. Did Antien get back safely?” she asked in a raspy voice.

“You both made it to his place. Glandur sent word as to your whereabouts and I came to get you,” he answered getting out of bed.

Rhavaniel watched him stroll naked across the room to a basin of water where he retrieved a cloth and dipped it in the clean water. Gods he was perfect she thought to herself. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin and how his hair hung down his back made her body warm. She would never tire from watching him do the simplest things.

Legolas wrung the excess water from the cloth and turned back to her, walking to their bed. His eyes never left hers as he was successfully seducing her with his deep blue shining pools. He sat on the edge of the bed and handed her the wet cloth. “Put this on your head. It will help with the headache.”

Rhavaniel thought that watching him walk around naked was helping to ease her pain, but the towel would help too. Then she thought about what he said earlier. “Funny, but I don’t remember you coming to get me and take me home.”

“Well, when I got there you were already asleep on their couch. I woke you and eventually we were on our way home. You told me about your evening at the tavern and how you thought the dwarves cheated, which was why you were in such a state. Then you began to tell me about something you and Antien discussed; something that you said you’d like to try with me. Do you remember meleth?”

Rhavaniel wracked her brain trying to remember but after the darts game, everything was a blur. “Refresh my memory if you will.”  
Legolas crawled back into their bed, spooning up behind her and nuzzling his nose in her neck. “Well, it was something about a certain position, and how you would do all the work. You would pleasure me by . . .” Legolas whispered into her ear, repeating what she had told him the night before.

Rhavaniel suddenly remembered discussing such ideas with Antien, but she did not intend to share it with Legolas. She had been curious about what things Antien and Glandur did to please each other. He had told her about one thing that Glandur did that sent him to the stars each time. Then he suggested Rhavaniel doing something similar for Legolas. He had said it would be the ultimate experience for Legolas and she would reap the rewards later.

As Legolas was explaining it in her ear, she closed her eyes and remembered. Then she gasped at his response to suggesting such things. “You would let me do that to you?”

“I would let you do it if it brought you joy. Besides, it sounds like it would bring me much joy also,” he said as his hand slid across her waist and up to her breasts. He nibbled on her ear, increasing her pleasure. “Maybe we should try it right now.”

Forgetting about her pounding head, Rhavaniel allowed Legolas to seduce her with his warm lips running along her neck, her shoulder, down her arm to her hand. She rolled onto her back and came to look up into his eyes. He gazed at her intensely as blue turned dark as a stormy sea. Rhavaniel knew Legolas too well, and that look said that he would have his way no matter what.

He nudged her legs apart and settled between them, covering her with his body. He kissed her deeply, his tongue pushing between her lips, demanding to taste every part of her. When he was satisfied, he rolled them over so that Rhavaniel was lying on top of him. They continued their hungry kisses and his hands traveled down her spine. Then they made their way lower to the top of her buttocks where he squeezed and pulled her closer.

“Ouch!” she complained, breaking the sensuous kiss.

“I’m sorry my love. I do not know my own strength sometimes,” he apologized.

Rhavaniel smiled down at him, her long golden hair covering them like a curtain. “It is alright my beloved.”

Legolas began again and gripped her rounded rear. This time he was careful when he touched her. He started his ministrations again.

“Ow, Legolas . . . what the--.”

“Here Rhavaniel, let me see what is going on back there,” Legolas said as he sat up, taking her with him.

“It feels as though I was bitten or something,” she said trying to see behind her and failing.

“Turn around and let me have a look,” Legolas said. Rhavaniel got on her knees and turned her back to him, looking over her shoulder. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” he said, then laughed.

“What? What is it Legolas? Is it a bite or what?” she said worriedly.

“Oh, it’s a *what* alright. Rhavaniel, where did you and Antien go last night?”

“Well, you know, we went to the tavern in town,” she answered.

“Yes, but where did you go after that and before you got to their home?”

Rhavaniel thought for a moment. “I’m quite sure we came straight home. Let’s see, we walked outside, and then Antien stopped to talk to me about something. Then he darted off and we--.” She suddenly remembered something and gasped. “There was a new store, I think,” she said recalling visions in her clouded mind. “There were many pictures in the window, a store of some sort . . . drawings . . . an art shop--.”

“You mean a tattoo shop?” Legolas said, still observing her rear.

“Of course not. It was an art--,” she paused when suddenly something clicked. “Oh for Eru’s sake, please tell me we did not--.” She looked at Legolas’ smug face. Rhavaniel covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “We did didn’t we,” she fretted.

“Well, someone had nice penmanship at least,” he laughed again.

Afraid to ask, Rhavaniel’s voice turned to a whisper. “What does it say?”

“The first two words are small . . .”

“The first two?” she said shocked.

“Yes,” Legolas continued. “But Antien is quite readable and it is finished with a swirling vine and a flower.”

“Oh for the love of all that is right in this world, what has that crazy elf gotten me into now!” she yelled.

Legolas was taking delight in this situation. He was also enjoying the view of her naked body, despite the newly painted tattoo on her cheek. He decided to tease her more. “I don’t think I like seeing the name of another ellon on your rear. I’ll never be able to take you from behind again.”

Rhavaniel gave him an absolute appalling look. “We have to get it off! We have to get it off now!” she screamed. Her loud voice made her head pound and she winced. “Oh, Legolas,” she cried, giving up.

Legolas clinched her waist and pulled her down onto his lap, being careful not to touch the newly bruised skin. She just seemed so pitiful right now, and he liked it very much. Rhavaniel felt the evidence of his joy at the small of her back. “You didn’t mean that did you?” she asked innocently.

“Well, it will take some getting used to. Perhaps I better start adjusting to this new look right now,” he said rubbing against her back and nipping at the back on her neck and her shoulder. It didn’t take long and Legolas made her forget about her pounding head and the tattoo. They forgot about many things that day as they ended up spending it in bed.

Hours later, as Rhavaniel lay in Legolas’ arms, completely spent and Legolas completely sated from their new adventures. He twirled a strand of her hair between his long fingers, eyes half closed and a smile on his face.

Rhavaniel sighed, glad that Legolas wasn’t upset with her. “I wonder if Antien has one too.”

Legolas smiled against the soft skin of her neck and laughed. Before he could answer her, there was a loud knock and then a fist pounding on their door.

“Rhavaniel!” Antien yelled from the other side.

“I think you have your answer, meleth,” Legolas laughed and Rhavaniel joined him.

 

The End . . .


End file.
